“Doesn’t it make you more sympathetic to our masculine plight?” Leo had asked. Lara looked up from the dinner she was eating with one hand, the other supporting Teddy against her chest, his little face hot against her shoulder, and saw Leo wink. Which, whether he knew it or not, saved their marriage. Because honestly, it was beginning to get to her, the way men (okay, Leo) were allowed to add feminism to their identity like a fancy font in the book of their life, while for women it seemed to be viewed more like the plot line—once established, any straying from the path viewed as a fatal flaw.
